by Zoey Parker
Go, it says. Go and leave Carlos and the others to their fate. Leave this old house with its old memories to its fate.
Go with Gabriel, your love. The one person who hasn’t betrayed you. Who loves you – or did before at least.
I pat Jane absently. She has lowered her head to the ground, slumped into a crumple. She knows. There’s no way we’re leaving here.
This old house and its old memories are all I have left of my parents now. I can’t let the Rebel Saints destroy it.
And what of Maria Fernanda? I can’t just leave her here to die, there would’ve been no time to alert her, to save her. Where is she now?
I try to stand up, but my body refuses to move.
And those girls, all those girls, the whole business. I need to fix it. I just need time. A few months. A few months to make the business legitimate, get it off the ground, then I can hand control over to someone else. Then, only then, can I be free.
I owe it to those girls, my family, myself.
I stand up, slide the armchair back in place. Sit back down on it.
Wait for what will come. Whatever it is, I have a feeling that it won’t be good.
Carlos gets back sooner than I would’ve hoped. Maybe fear speeds time along, who knows. Then again, I would’ve hoped he’d never get back.
He is a shout outside the house, a racing from room to room, his footsteps a drum roll until he finally makes it down to the basement.
“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?” he yells.
“I don’t know,” I say.
Now he’s right in front of me, his voice a deadly hiss, “Two of our compounds were just blown to shit and you’re sitting here, calm and quiet and have no idea how.”
I shake my head.
“No.”
He rips me off the armchair and throws me to the ground. He starts shoving the armchair over, slow-going with his one usable arm, speaking as he goes:
“Well, it doesn’t matter really. Because those Rebel Saints are sure gonna be sorry they messed with us. Because now, Toni, you’re going to see what I’ve been trying to show you for weeks now. You’re going to see why we’ve got the Rebel Saints in the palm of our hand. How we’re going to crush them now that they were stupid enough to attack us.”
The door flap now revealed, Carlos crouches down and sticks his head through.
I knew what he’d find, and yet the vehemence with which he swears still sends a chill down my spine. As did his scrambling in and storming around.
I consider trapping Carlos in there, but he’s out before I can make a decision, snarling in my face before I realize that I should have left as soon as he came home.
“What… happened?”
His eyebrows are arched incredibly, and, his eyes flashing, he almost looks like Papa now. It’s in the mouth more than anything, the bared teeth, the curve of the lower lip, that’s too big for the top one.
His eyes are full of tears, like he’ll cry or strike me or both.
Should I tell him or should I lie?
“Toni…” he growls.
I open my lips, but no words come out.
Carlos doesn’t understand. That this is it: my final decision – where my loyalty lies: my family or Gabriel.
“What… happened?” he says, and his hand trembles so that the light catches on the green of his ring, and suddenly I get it. What I’ve known all this time.
“I don’t know,” I say, and Carlos strikes me.
“You bitch,” he hisses, grabbing me by the shirt, shoving me through the flap door.
“Carlos!” I cry, crawling out.
He draws his gun, presses it into my forehead. The second time today I’ve been in this position.
I stare into his eyes.
The tears are streaming down now, no longer obscuring the rage there. The unmistakable, dangerous rage.
“Carlos,” I say and he cocks his rifle.
“Don’t talk. Don’t say another stupid lying word. I know, okay? I know.”
He wipes away the tears with his gun hand, his bandaged arm trembling.
“I know about Gabriel Pierson, about how you’re trying to change everything, even went down to the Factory.”
For one stupid, crazy last chance of a second, I wonder if Carlos actually understands. Is only mad about the withholding, is only doing this to teach me a lesson, to teach me about trust.
But then Carlos laughs, and I know it’s all over.
“How dumb are you? You think that Gabriel Pierson of all people is doing anything other than using you for the stupid bitch that you are, trying to mess with us from the inside? God Toni, I knew you were sentimental, but I never took you for a full-on idiot.”
His mouth is an ugly sneer, his eyes flicking search lights – searching, scanning, eager to see that he’s cracked me, hurt me as much as he intended to.
I blink back my own tears, refuse to move. Those tears will come out over my dead body. No way am I giving Carlos the satisfaction. That he’s getting to me. That he’s voicing my greatest fear, giving it wings, claws, fangs. That his words are sending my stomach swirling.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Carlos is saying, “That what I did to his sister, Gabriel Pierson pulled on my own. Guess stupidity is more universal than I thought.”
There are no more tears in his eyes now. Only a sheen of indifference.
“You won’t get away with this,” I say, and he laughs again.
“How do you figure? I’ve got a gun to your forehead. I’ve got Clarence, Anthony and Roger ready to take my side at any minute. Hell, I’ve even got Papa’s blessing in writing.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Oh no…” I say.
“Oh yes,” Carlos says, his one hand gripping the gun while the other burrows into his jacket pocket.
“Actually, I’ve got it right here.”
His shaking hand unfurls the crumpled paper, while his shaking voice spouts off its contents gleefully, “I, Earnest Taurus Piccolo, do assert that my business be handed over to my son, Carlos Piccolo.”
He turns it and mashes it in my face, so the swooping pyramid of Papa’s signature is unmistakable.
“No,” I say, twisting my face away, “That isn’t legitimate and you know it. Getting your vile mother to force it out of him on his deathbed isn’t what anyone is going to consider lawful.”
Tucking the paper back in his pocket, Carlos nods as if he’s actually considering my words. But when he looks up at me, there’s a malicious gleam in his eye.
“You’re right, of course. But really, who’s going to know?”
I gape at him as the inference at what he’s saying sinks in.
“All they’re going to see is this paper,” Carlos continues, his voice light, casual.
“What about me, Carlos?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, his eyes locked on a spot over my head, the inevitable conclusion worsening with every passing second.
Then, his eyes meeting mine, he murmurs, half to himself, “Yes, what about you?”
A smile plays on his lips and my blood runs cold, words surging forth:
“Carlos, please, I won’t tell anyone – I swear. I’ll leave, leave Toronto, Ontario, Canada even. I’ll stay out of your way I promise. Please Carlos.”
His gaze is still beyond me. When it flicks to mine, his smile forms fully, says, “Oh you’ll leave Canada alright.”
Now my whole body is trembling.
“Carlos – please – don’t do this – please, I-”
“Have already shown that you can’t be trusted. You lied to me Toni. You lied about fucking Gabriel Pierson all this time. You lied about trying to change our family business right under me. And just now you lied about letting Gabriel Pierson down here to rescue his sister.”
“Carlos, please...”
He pats my head.
“Don’t worry Toni. You will stay out of my way. You’ve been trying to learn more about the family business, the girls – well, now
you’ll get to experience it all firsthand.”
Our eyes meet in horrible understanding, and I croak, “No.”
Carlos pats my head again.
“Yes, I’m sending you out with the next shipment of girls. You won’t be ruining my plans any longer.”
“Carlos...”
“Papa always said that sometimes what we have to do to succeed isn’t always pretty.”
“Carlos…”
“And now mother can come back here, where she’s always belonged.”
“Carlos,” I gasp, “Look at me.”
And, finally, he does.
I let my gaze bore into him, convey all my repentance, my sadness, my terror. I fill that gaze with every one of our childhood memories: snow angels and snow cones, sand castles and paper fights and Monopoly games and pizza birthday parties and crying here, together, as Papa passed away.
But our shared gaze lasts only a moment, our understanding less than a second: he blinks and opens his eyes a new man. Not my brother, not Carlos. But a stranger, a tyrant doing what it takes, whatever it takes.
“There will be a guard waiting in that armchair,” Carlos says, gesturing over, “With orders to shoot you if you try to escape.”
I’m shaking my head, back and forth, not caring about the muzzle of death pressed into my forehead.
“No… no…”
With the palm of his hand, Carlos shoves me back through the door into the room.
“Goodbye Toni,” he says, and then the door is filled with the back of my favorite armchair.
The irony is a stab to the heart, but really, I’m as good as dead already.
Chapter 29
Gabriel
Back in my apartment, I sit.
I sit on my lush black leather seats, watch, wait.
It’s been half an hour, and still Hannah hasn’t stirred.
She’s on the other couch, covered by a woolly afghan Momma made years ago. It’s canary yellow and stands out ridiculously in this black room. Then again, so does Hannah.
She’s always been a flash of color and this outfit she was kidnapped in is no exception: bright teal tank, neon lime skirt with a choker to match.
The others left on a beer run, knew better than to try talking to me.
Until I know she’s okay, nothing else matters.
Only Pip stayed, the only one who matters anyway. He’s a pre-med dropout, so he can help. I wouldn’t have let him leave if he wanted to.
I pat Hannah’s head, smooth down her soft blond hair.
Did I make the right choice in taking her here instead of a hospital?
The clenching of my hands at even the thought is the answer.
No, if Hannah were there, being taken care of by strangers, being protected by no one, neither of us would’ve been able to rest. No, not when Carlos and the Piccolos are still out there, could take her again.
As Hannah sleeps, I scan her once more. Her clothes look dusty but intact. Her fingernails have dirt under them while her fingers are clenched.
I want with everything in me for Hannah to wake up and yet, I’m afraid for her to. Afraid of what she’s been through, of what it’ll make me do.
She may look fine, but her face is tense and her every breath sounds like something of a fight in itself.
The Piccolos are going to pay for this.
And to think, that all this time Toni knew…
I stand up, start pacing. I won’t think of it now. I can’t. Hannah is all that matters.
Hannah’s body shudders with a cough.
I crouch down, and one of her eyes peeks open, blinks sleepily before closing again.
“Hannah?” I say softly, and she smiles.
The other eye peeks open, and she murmurs, “Black on… black on…”
I laugh, feel like lifting her up right here and now. But instead, as both of her eyes open, I help her into a sitting position.
Regarding me with an amused sort of stupor, she declares, “You saved me. I knew you would.”
I throw my arms around her, and she hugs me back.
I hold her tight, never want to let her go, never want to have this moment end. This moment before I know. I don’t want to know what they did to her and yet, I have to.
As we draw apart, Hannah nods, reads my thoughts with a grin.
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t that bad.”
I scrutinize her face.
“So, you… remember?”
Another prompt nod.
“Everything. Though I do feel like an idiot for getting conned by Carlos when I was trying to con him.”
She gets up and flops down on the couch. I flop down beside her.
“So, you knew all along?” I ask, and she nods, brushes her bangs out of her eyes.
“Thought I could help for a change.”
“Want me to give you a minute, Boss?” Pip asks.
He’s risen from the other couch. I stare at him. He looks happy but uncomfortable. I’d forgotten he was here at all.
But Hannah shakes her head, sighs.
“No, everyone already knows how stupid I’ve been. I mean, I thought I could get information from him, maybe mess with him a bit, but I think he knew all along. When he caught me snooping in his phone, it was all over.” She frowns, shakes her head, murmurs, “Thank God you came, I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if…”
Now, it’s my turn to shake my head.
“Let’s not even talk about it. How are you feeling?”
I gesture to Pip.
“Pip, come over here.”
As he comes to sit in the spot I’ve patted on the couch, Hannah shrugs.
“I feel groggy, but that’s from whatever drugs they gave me to keep me sedated in that horrible cement room. Otherwise I’m fine.”
I nod, turn to Pip.
“How does she look?”
Hannah pouts at me.
“Gabe, I’m serious…”
I stand up.
“No, I’m serious. I almost lost you. No way am I not having you checked out.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Or letting you out of my sight, for that matter.”
As Pip takes what looks like a stethoscope out of his bag, Hannah regards me with an unimpressed expression.
“So what, I’m on house arrest in your bachelor pad until further notice, is that it?”
I smile, go over to the kitchen to get us some water bottles.
“Something like that.”
When I return with three Aquarellas, Pip is shining a LED flashlight in Hannah’s eyes, peering into her mouth, then her ears. All the while Hannah’s glare is on me.
Once he’s finished I hand both of them bottles, then turn to Pip.
“So, what’s the verdict?”
He looks nervous, maybe from my intent stare boring into him. When Pip speaks, however, his voice is calm.
“She’s fine Boss, a bit dehydrated but it doesn’t look like they did anything to her unless…”
His face goes red, and Hannah stands up.
“I’d know if they did that. And at any rate I’m not having either of you check that, so there!” She storms off to the hallway, then pauses. “So, you’re saying I’m stuck here, then?”
I follow and pass her, coming to a stop in front of her with a nod.
“Yes.”
She stretches herself to her full height.
“Here in your bachelor pad, even when you have your guests. Who is it lately – or should I ask who are the latest ones?”
I shrug. “No one.”
My sister’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”
I shrug and she lets out a low whistle.
“Damn, me being gone really hit you harder than I even imagine. You okay? You didn’t…”
The image of that second whiskey a few days ago appears, and I shake it away with my head.
“No, no, don’t worry.”
A warm smile spreads over her face and she throws herself onto me in a hug.
“I
love you, Gabe.”
